


Don't Stop Believing

by slaysvamps



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-21
Updated: 2011-06-21
Packaged: 2017-10-20 15:02:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/214018
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slaysvamps/pseuds/slaysvamps
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Faith screwed John Winchester and the one time that she didn't.</p><p>Story inspired (in part) by some caps from Tru Calling. I was caught by the intense way JDM looked at Eliza, and my mind went wild… UnBeta'd so all mistakes are my own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Going Anywhere

Don't Stop Believing (SPN/BtVS crossover, John/Faith, R)  
Author: Slaysvamps  
Pairing: John/Faith – BtVS Crossover  
Characters: John, Faith, Sam, Dean, Misc unnamed Slayers  
Warnings: Violence, Adult Situations & Language  
Stats: 6 sections, 5,356 words  
Spoilers: SPN: Pilot, In My Time of Dying. BtVS: Series Finale  
Complete: Yes

Disclaimer: If the Winchesters belonged to me, I think my husband would be mighty upset. Of course, if I owned the rights to Supernatural, we'd have lots more money so he might not care…

Summary: Five times Faith screwed John Winchester and the one time that she didn't.

Notes: Story inspired (in part) by some caps from Tru Calling. I was caught by the intense way JDM looked at Eliza, and my mind went wild… UnBeta'd so all mistakes are my own.

### I. Going Anywhere

John Winchester was busy fighting a zombie when Faith first spotted him, too busy to see the others sneaking up behind him. The surprised cry of the walking dead when she jumped one of them tipped him off, and suddenly they were both fighting for their lives.

The fight was intense, fists and feet flying, knives getting knocked out her hands and a gun from his that went skittering away into the darkness. Faith went down under a hard blow to her back, and a moment later John's body was on top of hers, his heat covering her completely.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he murmured as lifted his weight off of her with his hands on either side of her shoulders.

The guy was hot, in an older man sort of way. He was in his late forties, probably ex-military of some type by the way he moved, and in prime condition despite his age. Tall, dark hair, slim hips and bedroom eyes, just the way Faith liked them. Dimples that went clear to the middle of his head and a gravelly voice that made her want to tie him to a chair and make him read her the phone book all day. Or some of it, anyway.

"As interesting as this could be," she purred, rubbing against the length of his body, "maybe we should wait until we finish off the zombies."

The expression on John's face was something between a grin and a grimace, but he didn't say a word. When he rolled to one side Faith rolled to the other, sweeping a machete off the ground and beheading one of the remaining zombies with a practiced motion she could have made in her sleep.

They both got a little roughed up in the struggle to take out the rest of the walking dead, but it wasn't rough enough to stop what happened next.

John's back made a slapping sound as it hit the side of the building, pushed against it by her hands on his chest. There already was enough blood on his shirt that she knew he wouldn't mind the blood on her hands adding to it.

"Whoa," he drawled in that gravel bottom voice. "The fightin's over, honey." He put his hands on her upper arms and tried to push her back but the girl was stronger than she looked. His face mirrored his surprise when he couldn't move her while she grinned up at him.

"Fightin' may be done," she whispered against the skin of his throat, "but I'm still itchin' to get physical."

She pushed up the fabric of his shirts, letting her hands run through the light matting of hair on his stomach. He hissed softly at the touch but stopped trying to push her away.

"I think I'm a little old for a girl your age," he protested softly. "I got a son not much older than you."

"You don't think he's out doin' the nasty?" she purred as she dropped slowly to her knees. "He looks half as good as you, I'd do him myself."

He started to answer but by then she had his pants open and her lips wrapped around his dick. His head fell back against the building as her mouth and hands worked magic on his body.

Next thing he knew she'd pulled him to the ground. He wasn't sure how she'd managed to get her pants off, but she was naked from the waist down when she straddled his hips and guided his dick into her body.

It'd been a long time since John'd had sex, but his body remembered what to do. He put his hands on her hips but she slapped them away. It was clear that the girl was in control, and she was just strong enough for him to let her do whatever the hell she wanted. Not that it was a chore, fucking a girl less than half his age. In fact it was pretty damn incredible.

He was still reeling from the aftershocks when he realized she was gone.


	2. Roll The Dice

### II. Roll the Dice

"Never thought I'd see you in this hick town."

John turned to see a dark haired girl leaning against the side of a building. The sun was going down and shadows filled the alley, but he could still make out her face. His eyes ran down her slim body, remembering how small she'd felt beneath him, on top of him. "Never thought I'd see you again," he replied.

"You busy?" she asked, pushing off the wall and walking toward him.

"Depends," he drawled. "What you got in mind?"

"You held your own against those zombies in Louisiana." She stopped a little to close for his comfort and looked up at him. "Thought maybe you'd give me a hand with a shapeshifter problem up in the woods near here. It's already killed a couple of teenagers and there's another one missing."

His eyes ran down her body again. He knew she was a hell of fighter, but still a teenager herself, from the looks of things. "You sure you're up to it?" he asked softly. "A shapeshifter's a hell of a lot faster than the walking dead."

"If it was just one I'd take care of it myself," she told him. "I think there's a pair of 'em. I'd wait for back up, but the girl won't live long enough for 'em to get here."

John nodded, taking mental inventory of the silver weapons and ammo in the weapons cache of his truck. "Get in, I'll drive."

The girl grinned and put her hands on his chest, leaning closer. The warm scent of her skin wafted up, filling John's senses. "We'll talk about who's drivin' later, sweet thing." Without waiting for an answer she turned and, sweeping a backpack off the ground, headed around the truck and hopped inside.

"Never did catch your name," he said as he climbed into the truck. "I'm John."

"Faith," she replied with a toss of her head. She pulled a knife from her boot and studied the edge in fading light of the sunset.

"You're not going after a shapeshifter with that, are you?" he asked sharply. "Is it even silver?"

"Yeah, it's silver. And I like to get up close and personal, Johnny," she grinned. "Thought you knew that."

Two hours later they were deep in the woods, one of the shapeshifters dead from John's silver bullets and another wounded by Faith's wickedly sharp blade. They'd found the girl at the base of a tree, just coming around from a blow to the head but otherwise uninjured.

"Get the girl out of here!" John barked roughly, fully intending to go after the wounded monster alone.

Faith laughed, a bright sound that held no fear. "No way, Johnny boy," she grinned, taking a tighter grip on the handle of the knife in her hand. "I'll take care of the beasty, you get Goldilocks out of the woods."

"Faith—"

She didn't wait around to hear what he was going to say, simply raised the knife and sprinted into the woods. John knew she wasn't going to back down and one of them had to get the girl to safety. Grabbing the blonde's arm he half guided, half pulled her toward the car.

Ten minutes later the teenager was safe in the cab of the truck and John was headed back into the woods. There was howling in the distance and he headed for it, hoping that he'd find them before Faith got herself killed. A sharp yelp and howling moan rang through the night, then there was nothing but silence. He'd spent another five minutes stumbling cautiously through the dark woods when he heard Faith's voice.

"Hey, Johnny," she breathed huskily.

He could barely make her out in the darkness, standing against a tree. Pulling a flashlight from his pocket he shone it in her direction. She raised a hand to block the light and he wasn't surprised to see it covered in blood.

"You okay?"

"Five by five," she grinned.

She pushed away from the tree and stumbled. John caught her before she fell, his hands sliding through the blood on her clothes as he searched for wounds. She leaned on him, letting him take most of her weight.

Her laugh was nothing like the bright laugh earlier. It was a low and cautious sound, as if she wasn't sure she'd hurt something by laughing. "There'll be time enough for play when we get that girl home to her family," she breathed against his neck.

"Damn it, Faith," he growled. "Where are you bleedin'?"

"I'm not," she protested with a weak smile. "Just got a little banged up a little when I hit a tree. Nothing to wet your pants over."

"Shit." He shoved the shotgun and flashlight into her hands and swept her up into his arms, ignoring her protests that she could walk. By the time they got back to the truck she was nuzzling his neck, sending shivers of anticipation down his spine.

An hour later they were in his hotel room where he insisted on checking her injuries. She didn't mind it much, especially after she proved she wasn't hurt bad enough to stop from checking him for injuries too. This time it was easier to lay back and let Faith have her way with him, let her ride him at a gallop until the blood was pounding in his veins.

He'd barely regained his breath when she slipped out of bed. With eyes closed he listened to the sound of water in the bathroom, the rustle of clothing as she dressed, the click of the door as she walked out into the dim light of the early morning dawn.


	3. Share The Night

### III. Share the Night

Faith was in some backwater town in Arizona, up to her ears in lizard men when she saw John again. They fought side by side until one of the bad guys ended up getting a lucky hit to the side of her head and everything went dark.

The next thing Faith knew, she was laying face down in a strange apartment with someone taking a needle to her back. She overreacted, of course, striking out before she had a chance to think. John grabbed her arm and twisted it behind her, pushing her down into the mattress with his weight on her back.

"Hold on, sweetheart," he growled. "I didn't just put a dozen stitches in your back to have you pull 'em back out again."

"What the hell happened?" she demanded even as he felt her body to relax beneath him.

"You saved my life the first time we met, remember?" he soothed, relaxing his grip on her arm. "Well, this time I returned the favor. You gonna lie still while I finish this?"

Reluctantly she relaxed back down on the bed, letting him play nurse while she looked around the room. For the most part it was as spare as the room she'd slept in the last week or so, but the walls were covered with newspaper clippings, pictures and hand written notes.

His fingers moved to her back, and she realized for the first time that she was naked from the waist up. Before she could complain about it the needle bit into her skin, making her hiss in pain.

"Just a few more," he said gently. "You gonna be okay, or you want some whiskey?"

"I'm good," she growled. "Just hurry the hell up."

He was silent as he finished stitching her up, and it wasn't until he snipped the last thread that he spoke again. "You always take on a nest of lizard men alone?" He poured alcohol onto a cloth and ran it across the stitches lightly.

"It's my job, Johnny boy," she drawled, wincing at the pull against the stitches.

"Here," he said, handing her a tee shirt. "Yours got pretty messed up."

She took it and he politely turned his back so that she could sit up and pull it on. It hurt to raise her arms above her head, but she did it anyway.

"I appreciate the help," she said as she got to my feet. "I owe you one."

"You don't owe me anything, Faith," he replied with a grin that deepened his dimples charmingly. "You saved me first, remember?"

Faith shrugged. "Yeah, well, thanks just the same." She headed for the door, only to stop when he stepped in her path.

"You got someplace to be?" he asked. "I got dinner on the stove."

"You wanna feed me or fuck me?" she shot back, noticing the way his eyes kept going to her chest beneath the loose fitting shirt.

He hesitated a moment, then answered honestly. "Well, both actually."

She grinned. "Lead me to the food. We'll talk about the fuckin' later."

They talked as they ate. When Faith asked for something to drink, John pulled out a bottle of tequila. Most of their conversation centered on supernatural creatures, werewolves, ghosts, vampires. They were both hunters, and both had some tall tales to tell.

The bottle emptied faster than he'd have figured, and before long they were back on the bed. Faith protested when he rolled their bodies until he was on top of her, but he wasn't about to let her take control.

"Nah, sweetheart," he purred against her throat, "this time I'm drivin'."

To his surprise Faith arched her neck and laid back, letting him undress her slowly. He took his time with her and she let him, sighing in his arms and writhing beneath his touch. When it was over he held her while their breath settled, watched her face in the dim light as she lost the battle with sleep.

When he woke in the morning she was gone. The only thing she left behind was a torn, bloodstained shirt and a scrap of paper with a ten digit number on it.


	4. In the Night

### IV. In the Night

"Damn," John breathed against Faith's hair.

They were just outside one of the frat houses on the Stanford campus, watching a line of young men make their way into the back door. There was a monster in the basement, a monster John and Faith were determined to take out before the frat boys sacrificed any more girls to the damn thing.

"What?" she whispered back.

"What the hell is Sammy doing here?" he growled.

"Your son?" She peered through the darkness, trying to figure out which of the robed men could be John's youngest.

"The tall one," he said grimly.

It was easy enough to see which boy John was referring to. One of them was inches taller than any of the other young men, and the way he moved reminded Faith of the man standing behind her.

"If your boy's here, why'd you call me?" she asked softly.

He hesitated so long before answering that she wasn't sure he was going to. "We're not exactly on the best of terms at the moment," he admitted at last. "Boy's gonna get himself killed."

She didn't know why John didn't want his son to see him, but she knew all about the need to keep some things private. If John didn't want Sammy to know he was in town, Faith would do her best to make sure he never found out.

"Not tonight, Johnny," she grinned. "I'm goin' in, you keep the rest of these punks at bay."

Ten minutes later the dozen or so snake-god's minions that had made it inside the monster's lair were scattered on the ground, unconscious or moaning in pain. Sam stood over the snake-god's body, a broadsword dripping blood held loosely in his hand. He looked around the cave, his eyes drawn to movement near the exit.

Faith hesitated a moment, looking the boy over to make sure he hadn't been hurt. Without the robe and hood she could see the lines of his face, his strong jaw and shaggy hair that hung down on his forehead. Even from this distance she could see the strength of his limbs, the easy confidence with which he held the sword in his hand.

From what she could tell, John's son didn't have a scratch on him. Of course, she'd done her best to make sure he hadn't been hurt, taking out most of the minions while Sam had engaged the snake-god directly. From the way the boy had cut off the monster's head, she knew he hadn't forgotten anything his father had taught him about hunting.

A hand grabbed her from behind while she was distracted, but she made short work of her assailant, leaving him lying on the ground, bleeding from the nose. She'd moved so fast that Sam had barely been able to follow her movements. Before he could start across the cave toward her Faith was already on her way back to the surface, too fast for him to catch up.

"Did you see Sam?" John demanded when she reached him at the edge of the garden.

"I saw him," she answered, taking his arm and dragging him toward the truck. "Boy's got a hell of a swing on him, those long ass arms. Took the bastard's head off with one stroke. For real now, is he built to scale?"

John grabbed her and pushed her back against the side of the truck impatiently. He wasn't sure if it was fear for his son or jealousy that made his grip on her arms just short of bruising. "He's all right?"

"Yeah, John," she soothed, reaching up and touching the side of his face. "He's just fine. Maybe you should talk to him, see for yourself."

Pain flared across his face, settling in his eyes before he blinked it away. "Let's get out of here."

He opened the door and pushed her toward it. She didn't hesitate to get inside, sliding over on the bench seat to make room for him behind the wheel. They were leaving the Stanford campus when she spoke again.

"Where to now, Johnny boy?" she drawled. "You in a hurry to be off, or you got time for some more action?"

He shot her a sideways glance, taking in her disheveled hair and clothing. There was blood on her clothes, but it probably wasn't hers. She was practically vibrating with energy. He knew how she got after a fight, knew how hot she'd be if he touched her skin.

"You got a room somewhere?" he asked, his voice low and rumbling.

She grinned and slid closer to him, her hand sliding up his thigh. "Who needs a room?"

They ended up parking the truck behind a supermarket and taking turns on top. There wasn't much room in the cab of the truck, but neither of them minded much. This time Faith didn't fade away into the night when it was over. John dropped her off near the bus station and waited with her until dawn when her bus left for Indianapolis.


	5. Cheap Perfume

### V. Cheap Perfume

The bar was smoky and dark, with old rock 'n roll on the jukebox and a clientele of good old boys. It wasn't pretty, and he was fairly certain that he'd never been there before, but it was familiar in the way that all back road bars had become in his years on the road. Tomorrow he'd check out of his hotel and head for Austin, but tonight he had nothing better to do than have a few drinks and review the case he'd just finished.

"Well, if it isn't Papa Winchester."

John looked up and smiled when he saw the smiling girl standing next to his table. He closed his journal and laid down the pen he'd been writing with. "Faith," he drawled. "Been a while."

"What can I say," she purred, pulling a chair closer and sitting down so close to him that her leg rubbed against his. "Evil's on the rise, someone's gotta be out there, keepin' the black hats down."

She picked up his beer and downed the last of it. He watched her throat moving, smelled the unique scent that was Faith, remembered what she tasted like, what she felt like beneath him.

"You gonna buy me a drink?"

She looked up at him with those dark eyes and smiled like she knew that an hour from now they'd be fucking like bunnies in his motel room. He grinned back and called the waitress over.

An hour later they were stumbling through the door of his motel room. Or rather, Faith was stumbling, John was trying to keep her upright, at least until they got over to the bed. Her hands were tearing at his clothes, her mouth fastened on his neck.

When he woke up the next morning the room looked like a cyclone had hit it, with blankets scattered everywhere and the bed broken. He rolled over to see Faith sitting in the only chair that had survived, drinking a tall cup of coffee with another cup sitting at her feet.

"Feel up to a little huntin'?" she drawled as he got out of bed. "There's a demon over in Colorado causin' problems with the normals."

He picked up his coffee and looked down at her over the rim of the cup. "That's two day's drive. Think you can stick around that long?"

"Depends, Johnny," she purred, reaching out and running her hand up the outside of his leg. "You got something to keep my interest?"

"Maybe," he grinned back. "Though we keep this up I'll be payin' out a fortune in damages to motels from here to there."

Two days later they were sitting in a diner in Grand Mesa. Faith was finishing up her breakfast while John moved on to reading the paper. She looked up when he cursed softly.

"I got something to check out in Manning," he said as he met her eye. "Think you can take care of this demon on your own?"

"Anything you need help with?" she asked with a worried frown. "Cause the demon can wait."

"It's killed three people so far," he reminded her. He took out his wallet and threw enough money on the table to cover their breakfast. "You take out the demon and I'll be back in a couple of days, alright?"

"Sure, John." She stood when he did and together they walked out to his truck. She watched wordlessly as he pulled her backpack from behind the front seat and handed it to her. "Call if you need me, alright?"

"Yeah," he said with a faint smile. "You watch out for that demon, you hear me?"

"Don't worry about me, Johnny." She rose up on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek. "Just watch your own ass until I can watch it for you." She stood in the parking lot and watched the black truck fade into the distance.


	6. One More Time

### VI. One More Time

The man was alone, something Faith hadn't expected. He was tall, which she had expected given John's height, with dark blond hair and a worn leather jacket. She didn't see the giant anywhere, but she couldn't wait around for him to show up. It had taken her weeks to track these men down, and she was pretty sure there wasn't a lot of time to lose. Time moved differently in some hell dimensions, and if they didn't find John soon, there might not be anything left of him to find. She walked faster, hoping to catch up to the man before he hit the end of the alley.

"You John Winchester's boy?" she called when she got within five feet of him.

The man stopped, tilting his head a little to look to his left, not really turning far enough to see her behind him. "Who's askin'?"

"I'm Faith."

She walked closer, moving to one side so she could see his face better. She knew it was a mistake the moment she heard the rustle of fabric behind her. Without thinking she grabbed the arm that tried to wrap around her shoulders and threw her attacker across the alley. The first man was on her before she could blink, but she pushed him back then followed up with a side kick that sent him flying back on his ass.

Before she could turn, the second man was on her, wrapping his arms around her body and trapping her arms against her chest. Faith tangled her feet in his and thrust backward, landing on top of the guy when he hit the ground. She twisted as he rolled and ended up covered by the long length of his body.

The light from the street lamps didn't reach too far into the alley, but Faith didn't need much to recognize the man on top of her. He had John's dark hair and dimples, and from the feel of him against her body, he was freakishly tall. He wasn't prepared for the strength in a quick twist of her body that switched their positions and left her lying full length on top of him.

Faith grinned down into Sam's surprised face as she rubbed her body against his in a sinuous movement, like a cat in heat. "Damn, you are built to scale," she purred.

"Do I know you?" Sam gasped.

Before she could answer, strong arms grabbed her shoulders from behind and lifted her to her feet.

"What the hell—" Dean's words broke off as she turned in his grip and leaned into him, her hands on his chest feeling the muscles beneath the layers of fabric.

"Daddy must have fed you boys lots of oatmeal," she murmured, her eyes lingering on the sensuous lines of his mouth. "Wish I had time to take you both on a little test drive, but maybe next time."

"Who the hell are you?" Sam demanded. He'd gotten to his feet and was standing behind her.

"Told you, I'm Faith," she repeated as she stepped out from between them. "Couple of weeks ago I heard a nasty rumor about a friend of mine, figured the two of you could fill me in. You're not easy to find."

"What friend?" Dean growled.

She met his eye unwavering. "John Winchester."

Sam took a step closer, examining her face like it was an ancient text he was trying to decipher. "I have seen you before, at Stanford."

"Yeah, snake-god," she grinned. "Glad I could help out. Now why don't you tell me what happened to your daddy so we can work on getting him back?"

"People don't come back from hell, sweetheart," Dean snapped.

"Some of my best friends have been to hell and back," she retorted. "Been to a hell dimension or two myself. Just gotta know how to get out, is all."

The men looked at each other, hope flaring on their faces. Thirty two hours later Faith stood before a portal that opened into one of the lesser hell dimensions, half a dozen slayers at her back. Outside the circle of crystals, the Winchester brothers stood watching them. She grinned at Dean, who flushed darkly. He was still angry, but she was pretty sure he'd hold his ground and not try to follow them through the portal.

"Let's get it done, people." Without fear she stepped through the shimmering gateway, and the girls followed her into hell.

~*~*~*~*~*~

At first John didn't notice a difference in the hell around him. The screams were just as loud, the sounds of battle and horror that surrounded him unchanged. It was only when the fighting moved closer that he tried to blink the blood from his eyes and see what was happening. Through a haze of pain he saw them coming, but still he didn't understand who they were, or what they would mean to him.

"Get they key!" he heard a woman yell. The voice sounded familiar, but he couldn't place it. Some of his torturers had taken the faces of people he'd known in his life, and he wondered which one of his friends would cut on him this time.

It was only when he felt the chains fall away from his wrists that he looked up once more, up into the face of a dark haired woman he'd never thought he would see again.

"Hey there, Johnny," she grinned as she smoothed the blood soaked hair from his forehead. "Miss me?"

"Faith," he breathed. "Fancy meetin' you here."

She laughed softly, then looked across his pain wracked body at another person crouched there. "Help me get him up."

John turned his head to watch a girl younger than Faith grab his arm and together they pulled him to his feet. He swayed for a moment but their hands steadied him until he got his balance. There were half a dozen other girls around them, most of them looking too young to drive, let along fight off demons the way they were doing with short swords and long knives.

"You okay?" Faith asked, taking in the long gashes on John's chest and arms, the remains of his blood soaked clothing.

"Gonna have to take a rain check this time, sweetheart," he drawled. "Don't think I'm quite up for your gymnastics today."

"Guess I'll have to move on to your oldest then," she grinned as the two women guiding him away from the place he'd been chained. "He's nearly as hot as you are. Or Sammy, I've got a hankerin' to try out the bigger model."

"You've seen my boys?" he asked, gasping around the pain in his ribcage. "They're alright?"

"They're holding the gate open on the other end." She wanted to make him move faster, but six months in hell didn't do much for a guy's speed record. "Dean wanted to come in with us, but I talked him out of it."

"What'd you do, break his legs?"

She actually had told Dean that she'd break his legs if he tried following her and the other girls into hell, but she wasn't about to tell John that. "Told him I'd always wanted to fuck in hell," she teased, "and if you were up for it he was welcome to watch." John's choked laughter as they moved toward the portal told her that he was going to be alright.

A few minutes later sunlight hit John's face and he looked up to see his boys waiting for him beside the Impala. They were alive, they were whole, and for John that was all that mattered. The boys gathered their father into their arms and the Winchester men stood together as one.

Faith kicked one of the crystals that had circled the gate out of place, and the opening into hell snapped closed like a light switching off. The other girls faded away into the trees and only Faith lingered at the edge of the clearing.

She watched as the John told his boys he was fine, as he looked them over to reassure himself that they were safe. There was more love flowing between the three men then she'd seen in a good long while, and she knew she'd have walked into a deeper hell than the one she'd gone into to see John with his boys.

Faith was just about to walk away when John turned and looked over at her. His eyes were still dark with pain, but she knew his boys would take care of him. He nodded to her, and she took it for the thanks it was. With a grin she turned and followed the others into the trees. There was a nest of vampires in Miami, rumors of another Hellmouth in Wisconsin and miles to go before she'd see John Winchester again.


End file.
